It's Over Now
by sexycereal0
Summary: Set in college, Summer receives a phonecall that makes her think. SethSummer and RyanMarissa
1. Calling, Calling

The college vibe was sweet and Seth felt much more in a groove than the rut of High School as he went through his morning ritual. It wasn't much changed from his time in High School, coffee and bagel in hand, as he walked through the permanent sunshine of California to approach the cute brunette smiling at him from across the quad.  
  
"Summer, my dear!" he gushed, reaching forward to kiss her without spilling his cafe latté.  
  
"Cohen, so very much the person I wanted to check my Psych homework!" beamed Summer.  
  
"You want me to mark your work?" he looked sceptical.  
  
"Sure, why not?"  
  
"I'm your boyfriend, Summer, not your teacher," Seth clarified, "although wouldn't it be naughty if I was both?"  
  
"Ew!" she slapped his arm lightly, nearly sending his bagel onto the sidewalk. "Seriously, I can't fail my next test and I never really took notes for High School so I need someone that, like, liked taking notes," she pleaded.  
  
Taking a bite from his bagel Seth squinted, melodramatically considering Summer's predicament. After a few thoughtful chews and a well-mused swallow, he turned to her gesturing dramatically with his bagel-filled hand.  
  
"How can I turn down a damsel in distress?" he asked generously.  
  
Summer grinned as they started walking.  
  
"I would like to point out however that I never LIKED taking notes.. They just liked me taking them. Much like you do!" he sniggered, bounding to hold the door open for her as Summer's eyes widened and her hand covered her face as she ignored the strange looks randoms in the hall were giving her.  
  
"Should I cut my hair?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Momentarily shocked from her reverie of embarrassment Summer looked over as Seth twiddled pieces of hair through his fingers, trying to pull them long enough to see.  
  
"The Jewfro," he emphasised, "Has it seen better days? Is it X-filing its way into obscurity? Or is it more like some cult hit that though not popular is respected from afar?"  
  
"You definitely don't need to cut the medication," she smirked, twisting her fingers through the "fro" in question to pull him in for a kiss. Pushing a folder into his chest, she kept her face close punctuating her next sentence with a quick kiss before sauntering down the corridor to .  
  
"Psych. Don't forget to mark it."  
  
A slightly flustered Seth stood motionless in the hall looking after her, finally he regained the ability to talk.  
  
"Whatever you say, ma'am," he finished with a little salute and nearly walked into someone as he stumbled into American Literature.  
  
Summer liked to think that she fitted in at college. At first she had been worried, although she would have never admitted that to anyone, not even Seth. College was for smart people, people who did their homework and handed in extra credit assignments, Summer had pretty much gotten through High School on her looks and her personality. But whatever brief anxieties she had been plagued by Summer had found that college was a lot like High School and she was a lot more like the smart people than she had thought. Things might not come to her as quickly as they did to Seth, but with a little hard work and a little support, she was making it and things were good.  
  
"Hey, Coop," she smiled grabbing a seat next to Marissa in the lecture hall. Summer wasn't really surprised that Ryan and Marissa had ended up at the same college as her and Seth. Marissa, no matter how much Summer loved her, was too co-dependant and insecure to head off on her own and Ryan was pretty much doomed to go wherever Seth picked not wanting to cause anymore fuss for the Cohens than was inherent with children going to college.  
  
"Summer, how are you?"  
  
"Good, better even-"  
  
Summer was interrupted as her cell phone rang, looking around apologetically although the lecture hadn't technically started she punched the "answer" button and brought the phone to her ear.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
A buzz sounded to everyone around her. Marissa watched as Summer's face visibly fell, her eyes misting and throat choking.  
  
"Oh. Thank you. Uh. Bye." she stumbled over the words, long pauses inbetween.  
  
"What's wrong?" gasped Marissa.  
  
"My mom's dead," Summer sounded like she was trying out the words, as if she wasn't quite sure how they would sound coming from her mouth. "My real mom."  
  
"Oh, honey.." Marissa reached out a hand to Summer's shoulder but she was already stretching for her bag, pulling together her things and striding for the door face again covered by her hand. 


	2. Breath Mints

Her footsteps on the cold floor rang out hollow, expensive heels clicking in an unstable rhythm. Summer's eyes stung and she couldn't work out if she was crying because she was sad, or from shock. She didn't understand the situation at all. As she approached the doors leading into the American Literature lecture Summer tried to pull herself together.  
  
She pulled open the door and scanned the room, looking for Seth. When she spotted him Summer strode over, grabbing his hand and tugging him to his feet, ignoring the cat calls from other students and protests from Professor Brink.  
  
"Summer?" he looked surprised, but seemed to be revelling in what could have been some sad virgin's fantasy.  
  
"You're on call, Cohen!"  
  
"Do it for meee!"  
  
"Summer need a little sumpthin sumpthin?"  
  
Winking in a debonaire Seth acceeded to her request allowing himself to be dragged out of the room to the sounds of Brink promising to fail him. Caught up in the moment he didn't notice that Summer's eyes were red or that her face was puffy. As soon as they were outside the doors she stopped and he finally caught on that something was wrong as Summer shrank into herself.  
  
"What's wrong, Sum?" he questioned concern colouring his voice as he brushed a strand of salt-sticky hair from her face.  
  
"My mom died. My real one," she answered flatly.  
  
For a moment Seth was speechless, he really wasn't sure what he should say in a situation like this. He knew that Summer's mother had left when she was younger and she hadn't seen her since, but was she sad? Angry? Satisfied? From the look on her face she was as confused as he was.  
  
Wrapping an arm around her neck Seth pulled her to him his other arm going round her waist.  
  
"Oh, Summer.."  
  
She started crying again, her mouth resting quietly on his shoulder as her small frame shook with sobs.  
  
"Don't cry, Sum.." Seth searched for something to say, "you'll go all puffy, like Slimer.. you know? From the Ghostbusters.. Please don't cry.."  
  
"I'm sorry," she croaked.  
  
"Oh, no. No, no, Summer, no, don't be sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.." he babbled.  
  
Seth wished that he'd tidied the dorm before he'd left in the morning. Sure, it's not like he could have known that he would have a crying Summer on his bed, but he should have at least forseen a Summer on his bed. The problem was that with Ryan spending most of his time bagging up his stuff and bunking with Marissa and Summer bedding with himself, Seth's dorm room was pretty much uprooted most of the time. Full of crumpled clothes and half-drunk cans of soda.  
  
As he tried to shove some shirts under the bed with his foot Summer looked up at him, sniffing as she pulled on his sleeve.  
  
"I don't care, Cohen, can you just.. just sit with me or something," she choked quietly.  
  
Sideling down onto the bed next to her Seth reached out a hand to smooth over Summer's back as her head fell to rest on his shoulder.  
  
"I don't wanna go home.." she sniffed.  
  
"You can stay here, I'll get you some stuff if you want, like clothes, girl stuff.. Toothbrush, whatever," he stumbled.  
  
"I don't want to be on my own, I don't get this. It's like I don't know what I'm meant to feel and I feel like I'm getting it all wrong and you know maybe the stupid phone call was a hoax and this is like some cruel joke, how am I meant to know?" she cried.  
  
"Well, who called you? Did you know them?" he asked softly.  
  
"My Aunt Carol, I haven't seen her since I was six, but.."  
  
Seth sighed, tightening his hold on Summer as he pulled her into his lap. After a while he pulled back to look at her.  
  
"You want me to call someone? Your dad? Marissa? Are you sure you don't want to go home.. Like home home, Newport home? Silk sheets and grapefruit for breakfast sounds more.. better? Than crashing here and eating.." he looked around, "breath mints and a two day old bagel in the morning. I mean, if you want."  
  
"I don't want," she said quickly, "I just want you."  
  
"I'm sorry. I just, I don't know what you want me to do or what I should say. I mean this is like big. Biiig. And it's probably the only part of your life that was never public, that I never knew about. I need you to talk to me about this, Sum, I need to know what you need me to do," Seth rambled.  
  
"I, I don't really know her. Didn't I mean. And when she like.. ditched, my dad got.. distant. He stopped smiling, and I was just.. I started doing it for him. We moved to Newport, then. And I started smiling for him."  
  
"When you were ten," he finished for her. "Are you sad? Is, is that okay? To ask that? I, uh, are you?"  
  
"I don't know. I think so. But what if I could have met her. She, I'm never going to get the chance to know her, or like forgive her."  
  
"Would you?" he questioned.  
  
Her face was blank, silent tears streamed down her face as Summer answered dully, numb from crying for the past hour, "I don't know."  
  
Seth kissed the top of her head as she curled into him, sobbing her confusion out on his shirt. 


	3. Should We?

Marissa wore an expression of concern as she headed out the double doors from the Science block making her way towards the quad to meet Ryan. She knew he had been planning on skipping in the morning after a night of binge drinking alongside her and several frat boys. They weren't the most conventional couple, and nowhere near as perfect as they appeared on the outside but Marissa figured that everybody had their flaws and so long as no long term damage was done: fun was fun.  
  
She felt like she loved Ryan, but she wasn't sure if it was because she was so scared of being alone that she was grasping to him, or if it was genuine feeling. She didn't know how other people worked these things out, but she kept it to herself. Never let anybody know about the doubts she sometimes felt when Ryan kissed her.  
  
"Hey," Ryan approached her with a quick kiss.  
  
"Hey," she smiled back. "How you recovering?" Marissa smirked at him.  
  
"Surprisingly badly considering how well you're doing," he grinned back.  
  
Sighing Marissa took his hand, leading the way as they began to walk past the canteen towards his dorm.  
  
"Summer's mom is dead."  
  
"What?" he spluttered.  
  
"Summer got a call in , her mom, her real mom, I don't know she just took off," she explained.  
  
They walked together in silence for a while, Ryan contemplating the information Marissa had just fed to him. He didn't really know what to think about the whole situation, not having been around during the time Summer's mother had left. Although from what Marissa had told him nobody had, Summer had moved to Newport specifically because her father wanted to remove himself from the rest of the world.  
  
He had learned a lot over the years from careful listening, there were so many things that people never picked up on because they were just too busy talking. Too self-involved. When Ryan had first arrived in Newport the one thing he wanted more than anything else was to forget about himself, to focus on his surroundings, and even now years on he was still focusing on something else. On Marissa.  
  
For a pretty, popular girl she sure had her share of problems and the fact that her mother was married to Ryan's adopted mother's father was only one of those complications. Ryan had been right when he told Marissa that he thought he could get into less trouble in Chino rather than Newport, but he wouldn't give her up now. They had worked too hard to get to where they were and it might not be perfection, it might not be what Seth and Summer had but with their respective traumas it was the best that they could do.  
  
"Should we.. check on her?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know, I mean maybe she wants to be alone.."  
  
"Or with Seth," Ryan added.  
  
"I just feel so bad, I mean I don't know how I'd feel if my mom was to.."  
  
"I think it's more difficult when you don't know where they are, or if they want you," Ryan said quietly, "if this hadn't have happened Summer probably wouldn't have thought of her for years."  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Marissa, ready to defend her friend.  
  
"I just think it's sad," he finished soberly.  
  
"Yeah," she sighed, as they continued walking in silence.  
  
When they eventually reached Ryan's dorm he motioned for Marissa to stay back as he tried the door handle. It was open, but it wouldn't have been the first time that he had walked in on a very naked Seth and Summer who'd forgotten that doors had locks for a reason. Peeking inside his eyes half covered Ryan was revealed to find both parties sacked out on Seth's bed, both fast asleep and both fully clothed. The duvet was mostly wrapped around Summer and he moved quickly and quietly to avoid waking her as he reached for his toothbrush and some books.  
  
Back outside Marissa scrunched up her face in question.  
  
"She's in there," Ryan offered.  
  
"What's.. I mean, are they?" she asked awkwardly.  
  
"Sleeping."  
  
"Oh. I guess that's good," she decided.  
  
"Should we?" he gestured towards the stairs leading to the door.  
  
"Yeah, yeah we should. Go.. study," sexual intent clear in her voice.  
  
"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, hand on Marissa's waist as they wound their way through the corridor making a b-line for Summer and Marissa's dorm on the other side of campus. 


	4. I'm Late, I'm Late

Summer felt sore and heavy as she opened her groggy eyes, slowly waking up. Her head was tight and hot, her back knotted from the way she'd fallen asleep on top of Seth.  
  
"Sum..?" a slurred voice sounded behind her ear.  
  
"Uh huh?" she replied.  
  
"N'thing, just wanted to check it was you.." Seth trailed off.  
  
"Who else would it be, Cohen? Expecting Ryan?" Summer coughed, rubbing sleep from her eyes.  
  
"Heh um, I don't know.." he mumbled softly, "you okay?" he asked as he snaked an arm round her waist.  
  
Summer swallowed awkwardly.  
  
"Yeah, I'm sorry.. I was like, I was a mess," she murmured.  
  
Rolling over to check his watch Seth made a little groaning noise and turned back to Summer.  
  
"I have class soon.. now. But I, I can skip if you want. Or I guess go if you think-"  
  
"You should go," she cut him off, "if you don't learn stuff who'll teach me?" she smiled a little.  
  
"Point taken," his lips curving up against her mouth, "be good to yourself while I'm gone little lady, play some cards with Captain Oats.. he gets lonely these days without Ryan around so much."  
  
"Mmm hmm," Summer dazed as Seth went through the motions of pulling on a clean shirt, grabbing some geography notes and indulging in a quick swig of cold coffee as he stumbled through the door, blowing her a kiss. She blew him a half-hearted kiss back and rolled under the duvet until her head was covered.  
  
Swiftly making his way across campus, Seth almost collided with Ryan.  
  
"Hey, man, how goes it?"  
  
"Good," Ryan nodded, "how's Summer?"  
  
"Not so, but she sent me to class so that she could do some private crying," he replied, "I don't know what to do, I mean, man, if it was Julie Cooper Marissa would probably be hosting the party and.. and I guess I always thought Summer would be the same," he added.  
  
"Huh."  
  
"Yeah," Seth breathed, "so, how's Marissa?"  
  
"Where I'm headed now," Ryan gestured with the two double lattés occupying his hands, "long night," he grinned.  
  
"Aah, so you do partake in the less drinking parts of relationship life, I'd begun to think that you were letting the teeeam down," he said in a sing-song voice.  
  
"You know me, not one to bring the team down."  
  
"Going down can be fun, as long as it's with people not of the team, if we're a team of.. what are we a team of?" Seth shook his head, "I gotta go to class, increase my brain.. mass or something."  
  
"I'll see you later, Summer still in the room?" Ryan shouted after him.  
  
"Last I heard," Seth departed with a quick wave, sprinting towards the Arts block.  
  
Seth almost fell into the main corridor of the Arts block, tripping over the metal bar used to secure the bottom of the door. It was the second time that morning that he was glad he hadn't stopped off to procure something caffeinated. He arrived at the lecture room being used for Geography just in time to follow the last person in and avoid being branded late.  
  
As he took his seat, near the middle, nice and inconspicuous, his thoughts drifted to Summer and then to Kirsten. Seth knew how he'd feel if he ever lost her but was it really the same if you didn't know the person? Was it worse? Summer's mom had been dead to her for ten years, the only difference now was that it was official. As the projector board lit Seth settled down, vowing to make Summer talk about it when class was out.  
  
Marissa was already showered and half dressed by the time Ryan got back with their morning buzz. Marissa has gone through a phase of adding vodka to her morning coffee, insisting it was Irish, but she had grown out of it pretty quickly when Ryan had left her to her own devices.  
  
"Hey," he set the cardboard cups down on her dresser, flopping onto her bed as Marissa towel-dried her hair.  
  
"Hey," she smiled.  
  
"I saw Seth."  
  
"How is her? How's Summer?" she asked quickly.  
  
"Flustered. And not good."  
  
"What's happening with her?" Marissa prodded.  
  
Ryan shrugged, "he was late for class, but she's still at ours if you wanna go see her," he offered.  
  
"But what would you do?" she questioned.  
  
"I'll hang here, catch up on sleep. I've got English at two," he reasoned.  
  
Making her was over to the bed Marissa leaned down for a kiss, her damp hair swinging loosely.  
  
"I'll get tidied up and then head over," she decided.  
  
"Oh, I can do that," Ryan jumped off the bed and headed to grab some discarded clothes from the floor as Marissa started laughing.  
  
"I meant me," she grinned, gesturing to her tangled tresses.  
  
"Oh," he stopped short, "well you look tidy already," he finished.  
  
"Smooth, very smooth Mr Atwood," she giggled, writhing out of his grip to head to the bathroom, and her straightening irons. 


	5. Daddy

The sun was almost simmering into early afternoon by the time Marissa arrived at Seth and Ryan's door. She paused before knocking, apprehensive. Marissa wasn't very good with confrontation, and she certainly didn't want to intrude on Summer's grief, but this was her best friend and she would feel guilty if she didn't at least try and help. Marissa raised her hand to the door.  
  
Summer heard a knocking from the door, confused she pulled her head out of the covers slightly. Seth wouldn't knock.. but Ryan would, and although she wasn't really in the mood for visitors Summer was the visitor here and she wasn't quite rude enough to deny Ryan his belongings.  
  
"It's open," she called, wiping her face clean, "Coop."  
  
Marissa looked almost as surprised as Summer was. From what she could see, a small face peeking out from beneath the covers on Seth's bed, Summer was a mess.  
  
"Ryan saw Seth, he said you were here," she explain, "Are you okay?" she asked, stepping in to close the door behind her.  
  
Summer pulled herself up until there was enough room on the bed for Marissa to sit awkwardly beside her, half-sliding off the scrunched up duvet.  
  
Summer was quiet for a moment, tears bubbling up in her throat, "I don't know, Coop. I don't know what I'm doing," her voice cracked as Summer started to cry, again.  
  
Marissa looked on helplessly, not sure how to comfort her friend.  
  
"Have you called your dad, yet?" she questioned gently.  
  
"No," Summer choked, tears sliding down her cheeks silently, "I don't know if he knows, of if he wants to.. I mean she, like, just left us, like it was nothing, y'know? Why should we cry about her now?" she asked earnestly.  
  
Marissa started to wonder if perhaps she was a little in over her head, in all the years she'd known Summer she'd never seen her break down like this and frankly Marissa didn't know what to do. How could she ever make this better for Summer, even a little?  
  
Usually Marissa was too busy being the one who broke down to help other people. She knew it was selfish but she was hardly able to look after herself and the sooner she was able to leave the sooner Seth could start helping Summer. He would do a much better job.  
  
"I really think you should call your dad," she prodded, "he has a right to know."  
  
Gulping down a sob Summer gave a few exaggerated nods, trying to calm herself enough to talk. But the pulsing in her jaw was too tight so she resigned herself to the head motion as her main means of communication, for the moment.  
  
After a few minutes of silence Marissa stood, "I'll, I'll leave you to make the call," when she got no answer she ducked out the door, bobbing her head slightly as she quietly mumbled a "bye".  
  
Fresh from sitting still for an entire lecture Seth was buzzing with fidgety energy, determined to get back to Summer and force her to share and grieve and learn and grow. He'd thought out a whole speech, but was fast forgetting it, nerves getting the better of him.  
  
But it was a plan. Not a very good plan, even by Seth's standards, but he had run out of ideas pretty quickly and watching his girl cry her eyes out for another night did not sound appealing. So, as much as he knew that no one could make Summer do something she didn't want to, he was going to try.  
  
'Maybe if she had some facts, how, when, where, funeral dates even, like closure,' he thought.  
  
Summer stared at the phone between her hands, she had already punched in the number and no doubt it had started ringing on the other side, she knew she should really put it to her ear and talk.  
  
"Hello?" a slightly flustered male voice repeated.  
  
"Hey daddy," she answered.  
  
"The voice calmed, "hello darling, Summer how are you?"  
  
"Mom's dead," she replied matter of factly.  
  
"Ahh, yes. I received a phone call yesterday afternoon, I told her that quest for cheap beauty would be the death of her," he added nostalgically.  
  
"What?" Summer sniffed.  
  
"Summer, not 'what', 'excuse me'," he sighed, "Her latest 'enhancement' apparently, silly woman went to a surgeon in some godforsaken European country. Died on the table."  
  
Fresh tears sprang up in Summer's eyes, grief and disgust in equal measures, she loved to be beautiful as much as the next person, maybe more, but she couldn't imagine being vain enough to put her life at risk for bigger breasts or some nose work. No matter what some people might have thought. It just seemed like such a waste.  
  
"Are you going to her funeral," she asked cautiously.  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"No," he finally answered, "I haven't seen your mother in a very long while, we didn't part on the best of terms and, I've already said my goodbyes to her long before this," he finished.  
  
"I want to go," she tested the words.  
  
After another pause, Summer heard a slight rustling down the line, like a piece of paper being picked up.  
  
"New York City, Tuesday at one thirty," he read calmly, "I don't know which cemetery but I'm sure Kate can fill you in."  
  
Summer's mouth moved into a sore smile as she whispered roughly down the phone, "thank you, daddy," and hung up.  
  
As Seth reached the door he heard talking coming from his room, it was unlikely that Ryan and Summer would be making conversation.. but maybe Marissa. He stopped shortly to listen before deciding it was in fact a phone call.  
  
Not wanting to interrupt he crossed his arms, let his back fall against the wall next to the door and lightly crossed his legs at the ankle waiting impatiently.  
  
After a few minutes the sound went away and he decided it was safe to enter. Seth was surprised to see Summer up and out of bed, sitting on the floor with her cell phone.  
  
"Summer. Feeling better?" he ventured.  
  
"Going to New York tomorrow morning," she replied without looking up.  
  
"New York, aah. The N.Y., good times, hoping the pretty pictures will cheer you up? Or just going to catch a game? What game I do not know, but I'm sure it will be AWESOME and.. sporty," he babbled semi-coherently, trailing off.  
  
Summer scowled at him.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm not very good under pressure. I'm bad, a bad, bad boyfriend," he sighed, "I'm going to not talk for a while."  
  
"The funeral is there," she offered, hoping that he really would stop talking, just for a little bit while she figured out her plan.  
  
Taking a seat on the bed behind Summer, Seth slumped down.  
  
"Is your dad going with you?"  
  
"No, he doesn't want to," she said quietly.  
  
"Well, uh, do you want me to go?" he asked, leaning forward.  
  
"It's okay, it'll be boring and I know how much you like, hate wearing a suit," she quipped glumly.  
  
Seth slid down onto the floor next to Summer, taking her hand.  
  
"I'm serious, Sum, you shouldn't have to go alone, and Princess Sparkle doesn't have ID so it looks like you're stuck with me.. and Captain Oats who I shall be smuggling in with my carry ons, but shhh they'll never know," he looked around the room shiftily.  
  
She smiled a little for real then, pulling herself to her feet.  
  
"I should, like, go, get changed, y'know?" she yawned.  
  
"You should," he said sincerely, "but you can come back if you don't want to sleep there. Ryan's used to being evicted, he won't mind and if he complains then I'll get my mom to phone him, he hates speaking on the phone and my mom will try and buy him stuff. Seriously we should do it just to watch him squirm, oh, please, can we phone her?" he rambled animatedly, scrambling to his feet.  
  
Leaning up, she quietened him with a soft kiss and then bent to get her bag, walking lazily too the door.  
  
"You want me to walk you?" Seth asked just before she left.  
  
"Chivalry's dead, Cohen," Summer responded with a smile in her voice. 


	6. On Captain Oats' Life

The plane landed after what had been an uneventful flight. Hand luggage, and Summers', in hand Seth stepped down the rickety staircase onto the runway and waited for her to join him. When finally Summer managed to totter down the stairs in her four inch Manolos he slung an arm around her shoulder steering her towards the airport to go pick up the rest of their bags.  
  
"New York is like bad for my complexion," Summer pouted.  
  
"Huh?" Seth squinted.  
  
"The smog and city-ness blocks the pores," she mumbled, twisting a piece of hair between her fingers nervously.  
  
Seth took a moment to watch her, stopping to hold open the door as they headed towards the luggage pickup.  
  
"It'll be okay, Summer, it'll go great.. Well, maybe not great but as good as, you know, one of these things can go," he attempted to comfort.  
  
She sighed softly, "okay," she raised her face until they were eye to eye, "you promise?"  
  
"I swear on Captain Oats' life," he answered solemnly.  
  
"You love that dumb horse," she smiled through threatening tears.  
  
"And I'd never let anyone hurt him, so when I swear on his life it's only in circumstances that I know for definite that I'm right. Which is most of the time, but still you gotta get some wrong, let the little people think they're still in your league," he rambled.  
  
With a half-hearted slap to his arm Summer let herself be scooped up against Seth's chest, a few of the threatening tears spilling out onto his shirt.  
  
"I don't want to go, Seth," she cried against him, "I don't want to go anymore."  
  
He kissed the top of her head lightly, tightening his hold on her as other passengers started to pay them attention. He wanted to shield her away from their questioning looks and curious eyes.  
  
"It's okay, Sum. It's okay, we can just go home if you want," he murmured into her hair.  
  
She swallowed hard, wriggling a hand up between them to wipe her eyes before facing the rest of the airport.  
  
"No, I— I just don't want this to be so hard," she stuttered, which was something that Summer rarely ever did.  
  
"But it has to be hard, or you'd be like some empty, hollow person."  
  
"If I was like that then I'd be at home drooling the remnants of Xanax onto the carpet like my Step Mom," she smiled with difficulty.  
  
"Not the most attractive of hobbies," he nudged her arm gently, snaking his hand down to wrap his fingers round hers.  
  
Summer accepted his hand with gratitude, leaning her head against his side as they walked towards the conveyor belt where Summer's over packing was now arriving.  
  
The buzz of their surroundings had come back to its normal level, everyone in New York was too busy with their own lives to bother eavesdropping on a crying girl at the airport. Chances are it was some melodramatic teen saying goodbye to her boyfriend of a month who was going to Paris for the summer. Nothing that would hold their interest for very long.  
  
Summer's situation may have been different, but she still felt like the stupid crying girl, making a fool of herself in a public place. Her father had always told her that crying was a weakness and she had trained herself to do it as little as possible.  
  
Seth had just finished loading their bags onto a trolley when Summer came back to herself, pushing past the few people who had placed themselves in front of her she joined him, heading for the exit and their taxi which, all things going as planned, should be waiting for them by the door. Summer hoped that nobody had stolen their cab because if there was one thing she wasn't doing it was walking to their hotel. She didn't even know if it was possible to walk to it, and she didn't want to find out, especially with streaky mascara and smudgy eyeliner.  
  
The cab was there.  
  
The pair remained quiet when they got into the back, Seth breaking the silence only for a moment to tell the driver where they were headed. They stayed in a tense silence for almost the whole journey until a corner onto the street that ran down past their hotel.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"Uh huh," she replied vacantly.  
  
"I think you talked to me more in third grade," he mused.  
  
"I never talked to you in third grade," she protested.  
  
There was a long pause, "I know."  
  
Summer broke from her reverie, reaching out a hand to Seth, squeezing his knee gently and letting her hand rest there. She attempted to smile, but it was half-hearted and lopsided.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"No, Sum, I'm sorry. You're, you're going through something. A big something and I'm acting like we're five again. I just, I just feel like you should talk to someone about this whole thing, like you should talk to me. You shouldn't do this by yourself," he tried to clarify his feelings.  
  
"I'm not," she smiled at him, almost full this time.  
  
"But you would be if I wasn't so persistence," he was exasperated, drained from trying to get his girlfriend to open up.  
  
She rubbed his leg gently, "And that's why I keep you around," she joked softly.  
  
He swallowed, letting her have her façade, "That and my devilish good looks, of course."  
  
"God, Cohen, ever heard of modesty," she laughed roughly.  
  
"Have you?" he reached out, tickling her side.  
  
Summer squealed a little, their play fight dying out as she shuffled up the seat until she was almost sitting on top of Seth, "No. But it's overrated," she sighed, exhausted.  
  
"At least for such fine specimens as us," he charmed, leaning in for a kiss which was short lived as the taxi pulled to a halt signalling their arrival.  
  
The driver moved from his cab to carry their bags from the trunk of the car to the door as Seth slung an arm around Summer's waist, the weight of his hand on her side comforting.  
  
"You ready," he asked quietly.  
  
She let out a shaky sigh, "I think so." 


	7. Stupidity and Bleeding

Summer took a deep breath of the cool hotel room smell that was at the same time clean and comforting without feeling clinical or lived in. It was the perfect combination, somewhere you could feel at home in no matter how many people had stayed in the exact same room before you.  
  
Seth pulled a bill from his wallet, placing it firmly in the bellboy's hand before shutting the door and gesturing around them.  
  
"Not too shabby, huh?"  
  
"I've stayed in better," she shrugged.  
  
"This is New York," he smirked, "you want a good hotel room, you book in advance."  
  
Flopping down onto the king size bed she talked to the ceiling, smiling lightly, "not TOO shabby."  
  
Throwing his coat on top of the pile of luggage Seth threw himself face first onto the bed, making the mattress lurch up, almost pushing Summer right off. Grinning he turned to face her, sidling over until they were face to face, his hand settled on her hip.  
  
"So, Miss Roberts, what would you like to do today? Galleries? Room service? Perhaps a spot of shopping for the lady?"  
  
Sighing she let her head flop deep into the sheets.  
  
"Tired," she moaned.  
  
"Aah," Seth spouted in mock-wisdom, "but if you sleep now you'll never be able to sleep tonight… Then you'll just be even more cranky and tired tomorrow."  
  
Grinning slightly she shot back, "Maybe I have other plans for tonight."  
  
"Really," he matched her grin, "and what might those be?"  
  
"Well, that would be telling," she dipped her face towards his for a long, lingering kiss that he was sure had started softly. After a few moments Summer was clambering over him, hands moving with purpose up his chest to tangle in the unruly mess that was his hair.  
  
Seth responded likewise, the hands on her waist pulling Summer to him firmly, holding on so tightly that she was almost having trouble breathing. This was how she liked to share her feelings; this was a thousand times more her style than crying.  
  
Her father might have taught Summer not to cry in public, but he had never gone so far as to warn her about channelling your anger into relationships. Never told her what it had done to his relationship with her mother, who she would now never know.  
  
Fingers raked up her back, fumbling for the zipper to her summer dress, light and flowing, perfect for travel. The metal only lightly grazed her back as Seth finally succeeded in opening it to her lower back, exploring the new-found flesh with wary fingertips.  
  
She moaned into his neck, one hand wrapped delicately around his shoulder where her nails started to dig in as his hand travelled lower.  
  
She cried out, and he realised it wasn't a good sound.  
  
"Stop," she gasped, swallowing down tears, "I- I can't."  
  
He moved from beneath her, fingers lingering on her arm, stroking gently.  
  
"Sum? Sum are you okay?" he asked quietly, worried.  
  
"Yeah," she sobbed, "I just… Why am I, like, such a car wreck?! This is STUPID!" she ranted, pulling herself up and bringing her hands to cover her face in a desperate motion, "SHE'S stupid!" she cried out.  
  
Seth sat, motionless, almost ready to cry.  
  
"She just left, like it was nothing, like she didn't love us anymore. And, and I was never like this before, you know? I did feed squirrels and I wrote poetry, I BELIEVED in things. And then it all just seemed so… pointless. People don't love you for like, writing stuff. People love you if you're pretty and drink a lot and let them make out with you. Coop was always at parties…" her voice dropped to a whisper, "it just seemed FUN, you know? And, and sometimes it was."  
  
"Summer…"  
  
"I got, like, totally materialistic and daddy would just buy me stuff when he felt like I was lonely," she sobbed, "he tried so hard, but she LEFT."  
  
His hands were running a pattern down her face, over her cheeks to her jaw again and again. Hurried and worried.  
  
Summer sucked in a hard breath, looking up to his eyes with inner steel as his hands stayed on either side of her face.  
  
"And I hated her for it," she confessed, "she ruined it all."  
  
Seth looked torn, confused, "then tell her that."  
  
Her eyes were watery plates, shimmering with fear, "but I can't. It's too late."  
  
"Summer, we're here for closure. This is your last chance," he assured, "and if we need to make a quick get-away I'm pretty good at long distance… Well, okay I suck, but my cab hailing abilities are above standard!"  
  
She tried not to smile at his, as always, inappropriate humour, but failed, letting a frail smile pull up her lips.  
  
"I kind of love you."  
  
"How could you not?" he questioned in amusement.  
  
A quick backhand to his arm and Seth pulled her to him for a quick kiss.  
  
"I kinda love you too."  
  
"Enough to be my get-away driver?" she smiled.  
  
"Enough to take the bullet," he nodded sincerely.  
  
She laughed, "now that's kinda creepy, Cohen, even for you!"  
  
"Wha-? I try to be romantic and this is what I get?" he feigned offence.  
  
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, resting her chin on one to look up at him quixotically, "well, if you do take the bullet don't, like, bleed on my shoes."  
  
He smiled back at her, "it's a deal." 


	8. Standing Around

It was almost eight am as Summer stirred – face first – in the hotel bed, waking to find herself almost fully clothed, Seth's arm wedged uncomfortably into her stomach. The remainders of take out – small silver trays and some plastic forks – lay on the floor beside them and as she tried to sit up the crick in her neck stabbed ruthlessly.  
  
Shaking his arm a few times Summer decided that it must have gone dead from his lack of response, so she rolled over resting her chin between his shoulder blades as.  
  
"Seth?"  
  
"Urghemrgh…" he mumbled into the covers.  
  
"Seth… it's like morning," he reprimanded a little louder.  
  
"I know that Summer, witness me sleeping," he shot back, face still buried in the pillows and the sheets.  
  
She sat up sharply, slapping his back and wrenching away the covers to find him pants-less, but still in his tee-shirt and boxers.  
  
"This feels like one of those really bad morning afters, you know like when you finish all the tequila and someone finds another bottle and a pack of cards and you end up— " she stopped herself at Seth's cocked eyebrow.  
  
After a pause he began, "I told you not to have the Kun Po ribs, but no, and you now suffer the consequences of turning down my almighty advice, my dear," he cracked, yawning.  
  
Summer stayed sitting cross-legged looking slightly offended until he stretched out, arms wrapping around her from behind to pull her down to him.  
  
"You okay?" he asked warmly.  
  
"Yeah," she sighed calmly, "I'm like sorry about yesterday and—"  
  
"Hey, hey," he cut her off, "Times are tough, but anything you need," he freed a hand up gesturing to himself, "we can always mak—"  
  
Now it was Summer's turn to cut him off, a giggle-fit looming behind her lips.  
  
"I'm not dying, Cohen!" she stopped short, shocked by her own bluntness, but recovered quickly, "And I'm still not going to let you use the phrase 'make love'," she rolled her eyes, "you really are like totally old inside aren't you?"  
  
"I told you, Sum, yes. Yes I am. And I like it," he replied proudly.  
  
Their morning was relatively uneventful, as are mornings leading up to the funeral of a family member. Summer began to feel a tight, spinning feeling build up inside her gut – anticipation. She had waited so long to give her mother a piece of her mind, to rail against every feeling of inadequacy that her mother had left her with and now, now that time was finally here and Summer refused to miss her chance. To mess it up.  
  
Dressed in a crisp, black Calvin Klein she walked half a step in front of Seth hesitating slightly as they reached the door of the chapel. It wasn't really a church, but more of a cream coloured room with pews, it didn't feel old or sacred and that relieved Summer a little. To know that her outburst would offend God a little less, not that she believed in God. None of her family did, which was the precise reason that they were in a small cream room rather than a church.  
  
The room was furnished lavishly with snow white lilies, which Seth pointed out – in a whisper over Summer's shoulder while they found their seats – was something of a cliché. If anyone had paid them enough attention to actually listen into the pair's conversation they would have been shocked at their lack of respect.  
  
The service started and Summer found herself pressing her face into Seth's shoulder, the soft fabric welcoming but not helping her to steel her resolve. It was a short dedication to her mother's life and Summer was almost disappointed not to learn anymore about the woman, but what more could you say about an abandoning bitch of a socialite whose biggest hobby was plastic surgery and spas?  
  
When the minister asked for people to say a few words Summer found herself standing. Found herself walking, shaking the old man's hand. Found her own hands to be shaking.  
  
Soon she was standing behind the unnecessary microphone, the rough clearing of her throat filling the room.  
  
"Hi. I, I don't know any of you… but I didn't really know… uh, Joanna," she stuttered uncharacteristically gaze tilting briefly to the coffin as she voiced her mother's name.  
  
Murmuring started up in the pews which were really just rows of seats. Disapproving looks shot towards her and Seth fought the urge to stand up and make some horrifyingly embarrassing declaration. Summer looked so small.  
  
"But, but…" her throat was choked, tears sweating against inside of her eyes.  
  
She stood quietly, trying to force out the words she wanted to say. Mouth open, eyes wide. Summer stood for minutes that seemed like days, and then she ran.  
  
The murmuring became louder and grunts and groans were sounded from the people between Seth and the door as he darted out after Summer, taking no time to send back apologetic glances to the mourners.  
  
Once outside Seth soon found her, looking lost, his hands reached out to cradle her face, his thumb drawing back to wipe away some wayward tears. Sad little rivers coursing down her cheeks.  
  
"Sum…"  
  
"I don't know what I'm doing, I don't—" she sobbed painfully hard, wracking her chest until the tight feeling almost stopped her breathing.  
  
"I like came all the way to New York to make her feel bad and she's not even here. I, all those people…" her breath hitched, "I didn't come to hurt them and I, I missed my chance. I—"  
  
"Shh, it's okay. Let's go home…" he comforted, adding as an after statement, "to the hotel."  
  
Silently the pair walked for a little while to give Summer time to compose herself slightly, sobbing into Seth's side as he tried, once again, to keep unwanted attention from her. His arm shielding her face away from the world as his other hailed down a cab. 


	9. Okay Now

"I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot, Summer."

"Yes. I am. I'm a total idiot… and I'm selfish."

He really wanted to argue with that but somehow Seth didn't think it was going to help. They'd both been sitting in their cramped hotel room for the past few hours while Summer berated herself for trying to ruin a funeral, even if it was her long-estranged mother's. He knew he should feel bad for encouraging her but truth be told Seth was kind of looking forward to watching it all fold out.

"Well, okay I'll give you that one," he ducked as a half-hearted hand shot out towards his shoulder, "but you're still not an idiot," he finished reaching over the bed to take the hand that had attacked him.

"Oh, yeah cause talking trash about someone at their funeral sounds like such a rational and like, non-idiotic idea," she threw back sarcastically.

Seth swung his legs over so that he was now sitting next to Summer, both their legs swinging idly from the edge of the bed.

"She deserved it."

"Nobody deserves that," she insisted.

"Oh, cause if I left you I'm sure you'd never talk trash about me at my funeral," he countered lightly.

"No, I wouldn't," she was looking straight into his eyes, full of sincerity, "I'm pretty sure the person who caused the death doesn't get to go."

It took a moment before her deadpan expression to crack leaving a lopsided grin on her face. Seth reached out, grabbing her waist and tickling mercilessly until Summers screams and threats of violence filled the room.

"Stop! Cohen, seriously I'm gonna kick your ass! STOP IT JERK!"

"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try Roberts, cause you're looking a little less than badass from—"

He stopped short, groaning as Summer retracted her knee from his groin.

"I warned you," she shrugged sweetly.

"Uhhnrrgh."

Throwing herself back onto the bed Summer let out a deep sigh.

"I guess we should pack."

"If I can walk!" Seth snapped.

"Oh, come on! I barely touched you!" she yanked at his arm.

"Well, I just hope you never wanted children because I'm pretty sure that after that little escapade the dream is over."

"Aww, I'll kiss it better," she smirked.

"No. I don't think I trust you," he feigned doubt.

"You're what? Cutting me off?" she spluttered, trying not to laugh.

"Exactly. This ship has sailed, Missy."

"But it has my name on it," she pouted, clambering over to straddle him.

At that he sat up, a curious look sweeping over his face.

"The boat or the penis?"

"What?"

"Cause last time I checked it didn't… do you have sharpies!" he asked suddenly.

"NO!" she let herself fall forward giggling.

Seth didn't hesitated in taking advantage of her new position as he brought his lips up to meet her own. Summer kissed him back, a sweet prolonged kiss that slowed all the laughter down as they settled.

He paused to look up at her, silent for a moment, "you okay?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "let's just go home."

"So, totally agreed."

It took them much longer than either had ever suspected to get packed, of course getting packed also included clearing up their mess from the night before and that wasn't something that either was accustomed too.

"I'm just gonna get Rosa to follow me around from now on, y'know it's like putting a totally new angle on housekeeping for the new century. Seth-keeping. She can keep me clean," he nodded.

"What like shower you and stuff?" she asked, a pile of silver trays filling her hands.

"Nooo! Like just pick up all the trash I leave everywhere, put stuff back where I got it from. You know the kinda stuff that my Mom refuses to do for me."

"God, you're so lazy!" Summer cried, throwing a plastic fork in his direction.

"Hey, hey! Nobody needs to lose an eye."

"Yeah, like you even need your depth perception anyway, all you do is like, read comics and their all flat anyway," she retorted.

"2D, Summer, 2D. Flat is like, what a pancake is. Except that pancakes are actually thick and delicious and y'know not really flat."

"Whatev. Just help clean or something, I don't want to get landed with some random cleaning bill, they always jack you."

"Won't Daddy pay for it anyway?" he enquired over his complimentary newspaper.

"That's not the point," she replied exasperated, "why aren't you helping?"

"You maimed me, Summer, I need to keep all my strength for the plane ride home."

"Yeah, cause sleeping the whole way and drooling on some random sitting next to you is so tiring," she snipped.

"I'll drool on you if you'd like, my darling," he opened his arms wide, letting the newspaper drop to the ground opening his mouth and heading towards her as Summer freaked.

"No, no, no, no, no!" she screamed.

Seth threw his arms around her, crushing Summer to him as she winced continuing to make a fuss. Eventually she quietened down lifting her head up to see that he was not in fact drooling on her. Something that Summer considered to be a very good thing.

"Let's go, we'll miss our plane if we have to pick up all this stuff, I'm just not practised in the art of cleaning – we should let someone who is enjoy that experience. Do you want to rob someone of their calling in life, Sum? Do you?" he rambled.

Grabbing her bag, Summer took his offered hand and ten minutes later they were in the back of a New York taxi, several hours later they were safely on a plane back to California.

There was something comforting about getting back home. It was as if Summer was escaping from her actions, from all the stupid things she'd done in New York. The woman she had gone to see might have been shallow and abandoning but she was still her Mother and Summer would never get away from that. Summer wouldn't be waiting for a call from her anymore, and it was nice in a way to have that kind of closure.

When she and Seth stepped out into the terminal she saw Marissa and Ryan waiting for them, almost immediately Marissa ran towards her, drawing her into a slightly awkward embrace.

"Summer! How are you, how was it?"

"Kinda sucked," she said with a little smile, "but it's okay."

Her gaze fled to Seth – smiling as his hand came to rest gently on her shoulder – it was true, she was okay.

"It's over now."


	10. Epilogue

It had been almost a year since her mother's funeral and Summer found herself back in Newport Beach, home from college for the holiday weekend. As she looked out over the sand and sea her hands wrapped firmly around the strong, steel railing, she wasn't sad per se – just nostalgic.

For once she saw Seth before she heard him, silently coming to stand beside her, facing out towards the sea. Over time things had come up and they had broken up, but he had never left here. He was still there and she took the hand he offered lacing her fingers up with his, trying to draw strength from him as she had the railing.

"Hey."

"Hey back. What you doing here?"

"Visiting one of my favourite people," he answered, "how about you?"

"Just thinking," she replied quietly.

"Summer Roberts, thinking!" he asked incredulously as she turned towards him glaring.

"Yes, jerk!" she squeezed his hand until she heard his knuckles crack.

"Ow! You're a hazard! No wonder we broke up, even _my_ manly physique couldn't stand up to all the abuse!"

"Manly?" she sniggered.

"Hey, I'm manly! I'm just delicate. I'm a fragile man but a man all the same," he defended.

She grabbed his other hand, commencing a mini wrestling match. Seth used all his strength to tangle up their arms trapping a squirming Summer against him. She took a moment, looking up at him, studying his face.

"Thank you," she whispered after a pause.

"For what?"

"For not disappearing," she answered in a small voice.

"You know you could never get rid of me, Sum," he assured.

"Not even when I tried," she sighed, "I was such a bitch."

"_Was_ Summer, past tense. Anyhow I'm used to it – we just had a lapse back to pre-10th Grade Summer."

She almost had tears in her eyes when he let her go, both taking a slight step back towards the railing as she blinked repeatedly trying in vain to rid herself of the glaze forming over her eyes.

"You've been going through stuff, Mom-stuff, but Sum, you should know by now that I'm not gonna leave. I love you."

She smiled back tightly, the smallest pulse in her jaw threatening to make her cry as her arms wrapped closely around herself. As she turned back towards the sea he slung his arm around her shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze.

He did love her, it was true and sometimes she wondered why he still bothered. But you can't just turn off your heart, he had been adamant, even though he wasn't her boyfriend. And sure sometimes he would kiss her and sometimes she would let him, but he was just… Cohen. Boyfriends would come and go but she believed him when he said that he never would.

It was a lesson that she had learned over the past year, one she was just starting to understand. All those months ago when she had told Marissa she was okay, Summer hadn't really realised the fallout of emotions that her little adventure would cause, but now. Now she was beginning to realise that it didn't matter, as long as you had people who cared about you, you would be okay in the end – and most importantly it didn't matter what you called them, whether that was Mom… or Cohen.


End file.
